


Personal Space

by ghostofgatsby



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Awkward Conversations, Invasion of Privacy, M/M, Severe Lack Of Clothes, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-21
Updated: 2016-01-21
Packaged: 2018-05-15 08:25:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5778433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostofgatsby/pseuds/ghostofgatsby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trott is so completely focused on de-stressing from class, that he doesn’t realize what's out of place in his dorm room until he closes the door behind him.<br/>“Oh, <em>for fuck’s sake!</em>” Trott averts his eyes at the sight of his stark-naked roommate. “<em>Will you put some fucking clothes on?!</em>”<br/>“Shit, sorry, Trott.” Smith grins, completely unfazed.<br/>Trott can feel his face heating up, because this is just perfect. Like he really needs another reason to be attracted to his roommate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Personal Space

**Author's Note:**

> I was aiming for 100 word drabbles, using old ideas I had in my word docs, but this one sort of stood out. It’s not very long, but I think it’d be a shame to post in a collection of drabbles and things and have it get swallowed by a million tags. So here it is on it’s own.
> 
> cw: other than what’s listed in the tags, I don’t know. awkwardness rival to the feelings of getting dressed/changing in gym class. walking in on someone who’s naked is awkward...  
> If I need to tag something else, let me know.
> 
> based off of this prompt:  
> http://cup-of-hot-coffee.tumblr.com/post/117998276990/so-i-tried-my-hand-at-this-au-thing  
> ‘All I want to do is get over my dumb crush on you, an you’re making it really hard by being so touchy-feely AND FOR GOD’S SAKE STOP WALKING AROUND OUR ROOM NAKED’ AU
> 
> reblog?: https://ghostofgatsby13.wordpress.com/2016/01/21/personal-space-ghostofgatsby/

Trott whistles absent-mindedly to himself as he walks back from class. Another day of lectures done, and he’s looking forward to relaxing. He’s going to curl up in a pile of blankets with a nice warm drink, load up the next episode of the Netflix series he was binge-watching, and veg out until dinner.

Trott is completely focused on this idea as he unlocks his door, that he doesn’t realize what’s out of place until he’s closed it behind him.

“Oh, _for fuck’s sake!_ ” Trott averts his eyes at the sight of his stark-naked roommate. “ _Will you put some fucking clothes on?!_ ”

“Shit, sorry, Trott.” Smith grins, completely unfazed. “Didn’t hear you come in over the sound of the blow dryer.” He waves the current appliance in his hand as he finishes blow drying his hair, and Trott tries desperately to look anywhere but down.

“F-Fucking take a class on personal space.” Trott stammers, covering his eyes. He can feel his face heating up, because this is just perfect. Like he really needs another reason to be attracted to his roommate.

“This _is_ my personal space. You should have knocked louder, I guess.” Smith jests. He turns his back to unplug the hair dryer from the wall, and Trott is totally not peeking through his fingers because that would be staring, and staring is rude.

Fuck, he’s got fucking freckles from his head to his toes. That’s too cute. And there’s a mole on his left shoulder, and dimples right before his-

 _Oh,_ _fuck off, brain! Not now!_

Trott forces himself to close his eyes. “Fuck you, Smith.” He says instead. “It’s my space, too. You’ve got to stop walking around our room naked- it’s a dorm room, not a porn shoot!”

“You’re just jealous you’re not subscribed to my cam boy accout, Trott. Then you’d be able to watch me anytime you’d like.” Smith chuckles.

“No chance in hell, mate.” Trott sighs. _You’re about as straight as a lamp post._

Trott hears Smith pull clothes out of his open dresser and start putting them on. “Decent now, you happy?” He says after a minute.

Trott lowers his hand from his face and opens his eyes, glad Smith’s finally covered himself up. “Keep your dick in your pants.” He blurts.

“I know where I’m going to keep it, and it’s wherever I bloody well want to.” Smith growls playfully, pulling a sweatshirt over his head. He runs a hand through his hair again to fix the flyaway strands.

Trott shuffles towards his own bed. He feels uncomfortable in his own home, and it’s fucking annoying. He tosses his backpack beneath his desk with a thud. “I don’t want to bloody see it, mate.” He replies. “Either buy me some eye protection, or keep yourself clothed.”

Smith chuckles, collecting up his keys and shoving his feet in his shoes. “Whatever you say, Trotty. No promises, but I’ll try.” He passes by Trott on his way to the door, clapping him on the shoulder and ruffling his hair. He leans so close, grinning so brightly, that Trott half-thinks Smith’s going to kiss him on the cheek.

But the moment passes. Smith pulls away, scoops his bag off the floor, and heads out the door.

Trott flops down onto his bed the minute he’s gone

He can still feel where Smith’s hand has been, his shoulder and scalp tingling from the touch. He brushes a finger over his cheek and berates himself for wondering what it’d be like to feel Smith’s stubble against his skin.

Trott heaves a sigh and closes his eyes.

 _Why do I bother trying to deny it?_ He asks himself. _I’ve been fucked since day one..._


End file.
